While stumbling blearily towards the bus stop this morning, the Snook hissed at me: “Hey, it’s the Idol guy!” I looked up and made direct eye contact with Mark Holden. The Devil himself. Standing less than 100 yards outside my house. *shudder*

The Snook and I spent a couple hours this afternoon starting to implement the Getting Things Done system, and we thought we’d reward ourselves by going out to dinner. But where to go? We were feeling like Mexican, but our previous experiences in Sydney haven’t been great. Suddenly, I remembered something. “Hey, you know that random cafe ‘Chocolate Dog’ down King Street in Newtown? I saw on Grab Your Fork that they turn Mexican at night.” Isn’t that the wackiest idea? (It reminds me of “Swallows” from Arrested Development.) So we headed down there. Interestingly, the place was PACKED. On a Sunday night! There were even tables reserved. I was amused to see the sombreros dangling from the doorway (put up every night?), and our server greeted us with a hearty “Buenos noches!” We shared the ceviche appetizer, which was chunks of raw barramundi marinated in lime juice, onion, salsa, and (loads of) coriander. It was great. Seriously, put enough coriander in it and I’ll eat anything. (I’m sure my sister just threw up in her mouth a little bit there. Americans get so weird about cilantro.) Then the Snook had the beef enchilada, while I had the mole poblano: chicken breast with a thick, curry-like sauce made from Mexican chocolate and chilies. Everything was fantastic. It was without a doubt the most authentic Mexican food I’ve had in this entire hemisphere.

Well, I just spoke to my brother Anthony and he gave me the go-ahead… so I can announce that he and his girlfriend Kara are officially HAVING A BABY. Woohoo! Congrats, Ant. Now I just have to see if I can find a cheap airline ticket so I can attend the shotgun wedding. 🙂

As Paris Hilton would say, crochet is HOT. Apparently another journalist wants to talk to you hookers about your craft. Me, I’ll pass on this one.

Mary-Helen has posted the pictures from SSK last weekend, including a blurry one of me with my sock (I actually rather like it though) and another one with me and Miss Fee where I have ginormous boobs. (For those who thought I was exaggerating the weight I gained in the US, the boobs don’t lie.)

Stupid Customer
Sometimes it’s very difficult to keep a note of frustration out of your voice when dealing with an exceptionally stupid customer. Say, for instance, a woman who demands a child’s dress pattern she saw in a book “last week,” yet can’t remember which book it was (or even what colour the cover was). People, if you see something in a shop that you want to buy later, especially in a shop with lots and lots of products, WRITE IT DOWN. Because sometimes things sell out, or get moved around, or even get shoplifted, and god knows I’M NOT A MINDREADER. Expecting me to be one only marks you out as a big idiot. (And lastly, no, your status as a prominent Sydney radio personality doesn’t mean I remember your every move.)

Remember my customer that used the adjective “nigger” to describe very dark brown? It appears this is not uncommon.

Heeheehee. Toxic Socks Clothes Bin. That’s pretty funny!

Ever since we attended the Bugs Bunny on Broadway event a few years back, the Sydney Opera House still sends me notices of upcoming events we might like to attend. Most of them look like snoozers, but the latest one couldn’t have been more tailored to me and the Snook: PLAY! A Video Game Symphony. The Sydney Symphony is going to play the themes to videogames while big screens show the games themselves. HOW COOL IS THAT? We’re so going.

EIGHTY-FOUR CENTS ON THE DOLLAR. Man, that makes me fume.